


Demon's Dream

by EffingEden



Category: Original Work
Genre: Constructive Criticism Welcome, Demons, Dream Sex, Elliquiy's Storyteller Cafe, High Fantasy, M/M, Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-07
Updated: 2015-01-07
Packaged: 2018-03-06 13:01:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3135401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EffingEden/pseuds/EffingEden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The queen's squire is sent on a task he doesn't wish to preform</p>
            </blockquote>





	Demon's Dream

**Author's Note:**

> For The Storyteller's Cafe over on [Elliquiy](https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?action=refferals;refferedby=4147), using the element, rare.

_It is just a door,_ Thespin told himself. _Just a door. Open it._

Only, it wasn’t just a door. It was a rather fine door made from a silky wood, covered in intricate scrollwork and inlaid with gold. He had seen better doors. He was the queen’s squire – his business was doors and the opening of them. And the fetch-and-carry of any number of fans, gloves, hair pins. Any little task that the queen needed doing, it was Thespin’s purpose to get it done.

But this task above all others was one he dreaded.

The queen collected rare animals. Beautiful and monstrous beasts, housed in her private gardens. A menagerie filled with empty eyed creatures, made docile so that they caused no harm to one another or the queen and her guests. A unicorn that sang soft, echoing, wordless rhyme. A wolf with a black pelt flecked with white, large enough to ride. A flock of iridescent doves that moved as one. A stag with a hundred tined antlers, wreathed in ivy that had rooted in its fur. Dozens of others, brought from far, distant lands in tribute.

Thespin himself had been sent as a gift to her. Half demon. Jet black hair, alabaster skin, mis-matched eyes –the left was a pale yellow, the right was a deep, liquid brown. Despite the startling contrasts in his features, he might have been human but for his forked tongue and the thick, black nails on his long, slender fingers and toes. 

As part of the queen’s collection, he was lucky he had been allowed to keep his mind, if not his freedom. 

A new creature had been sent from the hidden valleys of Phydaaq. A gold-scaled serpent with wings. The queen was very eager to see it, but the court Somniumanci - the dream mage – had not sent word of when he would be finished. Impatient, the queen had sent Thespin to inquire. 

Yet it was more than the power the mage had that made Thespin reluctant to see the man. Ever since he had come to the queen, Acheron had watched him. At court, at the balls, in the gardens, at feasts – always Thespin could feel the man’s gaze. And when the mage had reason to talk with him… those occasions were few but each of them were like complex dances. The magi’s words were innocent enough but they twisted in Thespin’s mind, caressing his imagination. And then there were the dreams…

He was brought back to the present when a low voice murmured in his ear, “Finally giving in to your curiosity, demon-born?”

Thespin jumped and spun, his heart racing in his chest. There, far too close, was Acheron Gauch, dusty brown hair wind-ruffled and deep blue eyes fixed on Thespin’s odd coloured ones with a calm hunger. “What? Oh, Somniumanci – my lady the queen desired-”

“I have no interest in what the queen desires.” Acheron stepped nearer, driving Thespin back against a wall. “My interest lies somewhat closer.” Acheron’s hand lifted and trailed down the air in front of Thespin’s face. Memories of dreams bubbled up, called by the dream magi’s power. Skin on skin, hot, eager lips, insatiable lust that licked and burned under his skin. Knowing hands. A flare of pain and a flood of pleasure.

Thespin groaned and tried to slide along the wall to get away. Acheron braced his hands against the wall, either side of Thespin’s head. Trapped, the youth stared at the taller man, hands fisted at his sides. “You like my little gifts, don’t you, Thespin. Mere shadows of what there can truly be between us. You are wasted under your mistress. With me, you will bloom. She hoards what she cannot hope to understand or use. A half-demon carrying her dancing card?” Acheron leaned closer, his breath tickling Thespin’s jaw and cheek. “You are exquisite.”

The magi’s lips pressed to his, smooth and firm, moving so slightly, as if he was whispering, a flash of wet heat across his upper lip. His blood burned and his manhood twitched, already woken by the memories 

Thespin twisted his head breaking the contact, pushing the Somniumanci hard enough to make him stagger back a step. Thespin bolted down the corridor, only looking back when he reached a corner. The lazy grin on the man’s face was clear, even with the distance between them. After a moment, the magi turned and entered his rooms. As he made to return to the queen’s chambers, Thespin felt a twist of regret in his chest, and he couldn’t help but lick his upper lip.

**Author's Note:**

> Concrit welcome.


End file.
